To: Thomas Sully (sullythomas [at] mit. edu)

From: Jacob Sully (jarheadclan [at] rda. com)

Status: Secure, encrypted

Subject:

Hey bro,

can't believe this e-mail still works. Five years and it's still going. Five years you been dead. Over five. I gotta write you, you know. You gotta know this. It's very likely I will be joining you before too long.

They offered me your Avatar body. The Na'vi hybrid. Can you believe it, dumbass jarhead like me falutin around with the smartest people on this planet and the planet light years away in a big blue... thing. I took your body, Tommy. What does that say about me? Hope not too much, anyway, I know you would have done the same thing. Five years you been dead bro and we still got that twin connection going. What's that say about us, eh? Brothers till the end you and me. You the brain, me the brawn. It worked.

The money, man, it was so ace. I would have been a rich man on Earth after I got back. Rich enough to eat real food, not that damn algae they ration out. Fuckin disgusting. Rich enough to get my legs back, Tommy. Rich enough for me to play flag football at Thanksgiving. And with a real turkey to boot.

The first time I got into that body, Tommy, it was something else. I forgot we had tails! I practically decimated the medical room with that thing. You would have laughed. Norm, though, he was a champ. Knew what to do right off. All I knew was that I had legs again. Almost couldn't use them, but I did. I ran. I ran. I ran into the dirt. You ain't felt nothin like the dirt on Pandora Tommy. It isn't that hard, compacted shit on Earth. It's loose, loamy. Did I just use that word? Looks like Norm has been rubbing off on me, I guess.

Why didn't you warn me about Grace? Shit man, you could have at least complained while you were still alive or something. I'm kidding. She wasn't very happy that you left, not that I was either, and thought I was just a "jarhead dropout." Well shit, I am. Was. Fuck, I don't know anymore. But we get each other now. Or got each other. She's dead. Shot, trying to get me on the damn Samson. Died. Moat begged Eywa to put her soul into her Avatar, but Grace was too far gone. She rests with Eywa. I know, I know, suddenly I'm a religious man? Yeah. Suddenly I am.

Finally I get out onto Pandora. The jungle, the wild. You remember those old pictures of the jungles we would look at when we were kids? Pandora puts those to shame. Everything lights up. Bioluminescent. There's my six syllable word for the day.

So anyway, I get out there, it's my first day out on Pandora, and a damn palulukan, a Thanator, shows up. Baptism by fire, eh? Long story short, I get chased, saved by a Na'vi, and somehow wind up getting trained to be a real Na'vi. Fuckin insane right? All in one day.

I learned how to become Na'vi, Tommy. How to hunt, how to fly. Now there's something you probably know about right? Flyin up there with those wings and that little harp. I kid, I kid.

Flying is better than running. You remember those dreams I had after I lost my legs? Of flying? Tommy, I swear to you those dreams were prophetic. There's nothing like getting up on your ikran, or banshee. Swirling, gliding, and soaring above the trees, around the hallelujah mountains The wind in your face, your ikran underneath you. Every ounce of an ikran is power. Flying is more free, more powerful, than holding a gun and tramping through bush. It's more peaceful, with that wind filling your ears. Nothing but you, tsayhelu, and your thoughts. Even when we hunt from the air it's more peaceful. Detached I guess. Look at me, getting all poetic and shit.

But I did wrong, Tommy. I did the Na'vi wrong, I did Grace and Norman wrong, I did everyone wrong. I sold out the Na'vi to the RDA. I sold out Neytiri.

I guess I should have mentioned, Neytiri. She's Na'vi. And my mate. My love. She's the one who trained me, who taught me to be Na'vi. Ain't no one like her. I can't even begin to describe her. I am going to be such a cliché, but she is fierce. Ain't one tiny thing delicate about her, Tommy.

And I sold her out to the fucking RDA. What started out as me, the dumb grunt, taking orders so I could get my legs back turned into fucking genocide. We, and I mean we, destroyed their Hometree. How many thousands of years came down in a minute of fire and smoke and bombs and death?

Tommy, I shamed you. This was your avatar, meant for study, peace, negotiations, and I fucking used it. I deserve no forgiveness. I expect none.

I am going to do what I can, though, to make sure humans never harm the Na'vi again. I am fighting with the Na'vi. I can't... I won't allow the humans to make another earth. Grace will help Eywa what will happen if the humans win. Grace, always guiding.

I am toruk makto, and in an hour I fly off to war with the humans. Norm is fighting too, can you believe that? I practically fell over when he asked me to teach him to ride a pa'li. He's a natural, though. Better than I ever was, shit. Good old Norm.

I am Na'vi now, Tommy. If I live through this, this human body will be no more, I will become completely Na'vi. It's possible. If I don't make it, well. I don't know.

I will, however, always be the brother to the great scientist Thomas Sully, and I know you will be right by me as we fly. Five years dead and we still got the twin connection going, after all. Brothers till the bitter end.

To war, Tommy, to war.

Jake